


happy birthday wash

by orphan_account



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, im not gonna tag the minor characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>church forgot wash's birthday cuz hes a big dumb baby<br/>tucker and caboose are really gay while church is gone</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. church forgot his bf's birthday lol

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas jord!!!!!!!!!! enjoy ur blue team babies  
> (hahah this is so bad i am horribl at writing fic hA)

Epsilon woke Carolina in a frenzy. “Carolina, Carolina!” He said. “Do you know what day it is?!”

“The day you shut the fuck up?” Carolina said, too groggy to think of a better comeback.

“Stop being a bitch, I'm serious! It's Wash's birthday!” Epsilon said. There was a beat of silence as Carolina got out of bed.

“Alright, you got my attention.”

“We gotta throw him a party.”

“Shit, this was my day off.”

“What do I get him? What does he even like?”  
“Calm down, Church.”

“No, because I feel like a dick for not remembering.” Epsilon was glitching out, slightly. He would run more slowly when he was upset, but it was more of an annoyance than an inconvenience.

Carolina rolled her eyes. “It's no big deal, we'll figure something out for him.” She said. “Just let me get my armor on- we'll get Tucker and Caboose to decorate and bake while we're out getting him a gift, and Wash will just have to sleep in. He probably didn't have any plans for his big day, and god knows he deserves some rest. Sound like a plan?”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Epsilon said.

“You're damn right it does.” She said, while she finished putting on her armor. “What do you want to get him?”

“I dunno, what does he like?”

“Cats...?”

“Carolina. We are on a planet whose resources have been dried up for years. They probably _ate_ the damn cats, if they didn't use their pelts first.”

Carolina sighed, and put on her helmet. “I have an idea, but we're going to need the red team's help.”

“Will Wash like it?”

“He'll love it.” She said. Epsilon heard a smile in her tone, and trusted her.

“Then we better get started.”

Downstairs led into a small kitchen, where Caboose and Tucker sat waiting for them. They were teasing each other like always, they found so many ways to say “fuck you” with friendly undertones.

“Listen up, assholes.” Epsilon said. Tucker groaned.

“It's Wash's birthday, and we owe him. A lot. For obvious reasons.”

“Bow chicka wow wow.” Tucker said.

“Shut up Tucker!” Caboose and Epsilon said simultaneously.

“Well, before I was so _rudely interrupted_ , I was going to say I thought of a really good idea for Wash's birthday.” Epsilon said, before he turned to his sister. “Tell them, Carolina.”

The freelancer thought of ways to disembowel her robot half-brother as she spoke. “Wash was born tired, so if we're quiet he'll probably sleep in all afternoon.” She said. “That gives us plenty of time to throw him a party- or whatever lame alternative Chorus's supplies will allow. Caboose, you make the cake from scratch. That shouldn't be too hard-”

She noticed Tucker shaking his head furiously, and revised her sentence. “Change of plan. Tucker, you bake the cake, Caboose, you set up decorations. Try not to burn the base down while you're at it.” Carolina said, as she headed out of their base. “Church and I will be back with Wash's gift in a couple hours, and we expect you to be done by then.”

“That's not really what we're about.” Tucker said. “What happened to 'be yourself'?”

“On behalf of everyone who's still alive on Chorus, I don't think any of us should 'be ourselves'. Ever.” Epsilon said. “That got me killed. Three times.”

“Oh c'mon, The Director didn't count! He was only technically you.” Tucker said.

“One of those was not my fault!” Caboose said.

Carolina rolled her eyes and left, without a goodbye.

The trek to Red Base went quickly (the teams only had separate housing because Sarge had refused to share a roof with “dirty blues”), and was preoccupied with sarcasm. Most of their conversations followed the same pattern: he'd be grumpy, she'd be annoyed, and they'd argue until one of them brought attention back to the task at hand. They were secretly proud to call each other family.

The base appeared to be empty when they got there, asides from a jeep out front that resembled a warthog. “Anyone home?” Carolina called. There was no reply, and she considered leaving- before someone cocked their rifle.

“We don't want any trouble.” She said, as she quickly spotted a maroon helmet peaking over the top of Red Base.

“What's the password?” Sarge called from behind Simmons.

Carolina grumbled, but Epsilon spoke over her. “Password!” He said.

“What in- How did they guess that?! It was my masterpiece!”

“I wouldn't worry about it, sir.”

“Are they dead yet? I'm missing out on nap opportunities.”

“Oh come on you guys, get off their backs! There's no need to ride them like that-”

“Should I let them in before Donut makes us all uncomfortable?”

“Looks like you have to Simmons, they've seen right through our defenses. Be careful- who knows what kind of masterminds we're dealing with?”

The door to Red Base swung open, and Carolina sighed. “I really hope Wash is worth this.” She said. Epsilon didn't reply, he knew his sister thought Wash was worth the world and more.

The inside of Red Base was almost identical to that of the blue's, and easy to navigate. Carolina found the artillery in minutes, as well as Simmons cowering inside it.

“Is this a trap?” She asked.

“Uh, no-” Simmons said in a high-pitched voice, before correcting himself: “I mean, _No-_ what would make you think that?”

“There's a really obvious bucket of water over the door, and Sarge is hiding in the corner.”

“Shut up-” Another voice crack, “I-I mean, _shut up!_ ”

“Do not submit to the female menace!” Sarge said. He rolled out from behind a shelf and hit his head.

“You three better shut up before she gets pissed off.” Epsilon said. “We're here to negotiate, not fight.”

“What do you want?” Sarge asked.

“WewanthelpwithWash'sbirthdaypresent.”

“What?!”

“We want help with Wash's birthday present, okay?”

“If this is some hair-brained scheme to-”

“It's not.” Carolina said. “Wash is our friend, and want to do something nice for him.”

The red team exchanged glances. “No offense, but we really don't give a fuck.” Grif said.

“What?”

“Wash is _your friend,_ not ours.”

“You weren't _his problem_ , either, and look at all the shit he did for you!”

“Don't care.”

Epsilon glitched a little, and his voice was mangled in disappointment. _“You don't deserve to know him.”_ He said, as his sister walked out of the room. Epsilon left with an uneasy air and a deafening silence.

The red team stared at their shoes. They all felt like dicks, and none of them wanted to be the first to admit it.

“So... looks like we're gonna have to-” Simmons said.

“Not today, Simmons.” Grif said.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about Simmons. This is the part where we all feel like assholes and do something really nice and cliché to make up for it. Not today.”

“Why not? We were all thinking it. Church was probably right-”

Grif's voice dropped to a whisper, and he pulled his teammate closer. “Simmons, there's a _Real Housewives Of Chorus_ marathon tonight, and I need to know if Becca is leaving Simon.”

“Wash's party could have food.” Simmons said. He noticed Grif's attention peak at 'food.'

“You have orders to make Wash happy, preferably with violent force.” Sarge said.

“I'm not going to need force when I give him his 'birthday present'.” Donut said. “Get it? The present is my-”

_“Fine!”_ Grif said, making sure to speak over whatever innuendo Donut had thought of. “We'll go to Wash's birthday. But I get to record my shows while we're gone.”

“We would've gone without you, asshole.” Simmons said. His boyfriend grumbled behind him as they headed out of Red Base, but he found it cute.

They caught up with Carolina and Epsilon ten minutes later, despite Grif's near-inability to walk. Unfortunately, the walk to red base had taken over two hours: by then it was ten, and Wash had never slept past nine in his life. Epsilon began to complain, and his muttering made everyone else walk more slowly.

It was lunch when they got there, and the reds were calling the trek a waste of their time. Carolina shut them up with a glare, but their morale still suffered. They were all hoping that things had gone better on Caboose and Tucker's end.

They hadn't. The two of them stood adjacent when Carolina's party walked in, among their colossal mess. They were in no better condition: their clothes were coated in flour and paint, and their faces in blush.

The base was in chaos, paint and baking supplies scattered the walls along with-  _was that glitter glue?!_ They'd broken the oven, and the alarm's sprinklers had soaked the entire base. The smoke alarm was blaring, the oven was hissing, and Epsilon was yelling.

“What the fuck did you  _do?!_ How do you even fuck up this badly?!” He said. Carolina tried to calm him, but he only raised his voice. “I tried to do something  _nice,_ and you idiots messed it up! Just like everything else. I should have known better than to trust you, you  _incompetent pieces of shit!_ ”

Epsilon was about to blow a gasket when Wash walked into the kitchen. “Uh, I know this is none of my business, but could you keep it down?” He said. “I was having a really nice dream and-”

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” Caboose said. Epsilon groaned.

“What?”

“Sorry we forgot your birthday-” Carolina said.

“What are you talking about? It's not my birthday!”

“Yes it is!”

“Carolina. I couldn't remember who I was for years, do you really think I can remember my  _birthday?_ ”

“Solid point.”

He looked around the room, and snickered. “I don't know what the fuck you guys did, but we better start cleaning it up. Why are the reds here- why did the smoke alarm go off?”

“Long story. Sorry I messed up your birthday, dude.” Tucker said.

“I don't care and I don't want to know. Can we start cleaning now?” Wash said. Everyone nodded (except Grif), and the evening was spent scrubbing the base raw.

Somehow _work_ was exactly what they'd needed, it'd been a long time since everyone had simply enjoyed each other's company without an unfinished mission looming over them. It brought back memories of Blood Gulch, of a time before Project Freelancer. It brought back memories of _home._

While he was mopping, Sarge 'interrogated' Carolina. “You sure this isn't an evil plot to have us probed?” He said.

“It's just a birthday party. That's it.”

“Something here isn't adding up. You said you needed us for Wash's present, but all we've done is clean. Are you planning to-”

“There's nothing, no strings attached.”

“But you said the present-”

“You  _were_ the present.” Carolina said. Sarge didn't have any more questions.

Everyone spent the night fighting for Wash's attention and telling bad jokes. Carolina had never seen them so happy, and her own joviality surprised her too. They all smiled til their faces hurt.

The rest of the night went smoothly, the red team said their goodbyes at midnight and the blue team went to bed not long after. Carolina had finally fallen asleep when Epsilon pestered her. “Carolina, Carolina!” He whispered. “Do you think Wash liked his gift?”

“Are you seriously asking me this now?”

“Just answer the question.”

She sighed, and hid a tired laugh. “Church, when was the last time you saw Wash smile?”

“Three months ago.

“How many times did he smile tonight?”

“Four.”

“I knew you were counting!”

“Shut up.” Epsilon said. He hated when his sister was right, but he loved all four of those smiles enough to make his heart ache.

 


	2. tucker and caboose are like "ok sweet hes gone lets makeout"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is supposed to take place right after church left in the first chapter, so u know how the heck everything got so messed up while he was gone. these two are man children, i cannot BELIEVE. but ya this doesnt make sense without context so i hope no one skips the summary hAHAH

“Asshole.” Tucker said, as he watched Epsilon leave. He turned to his remaining teammate and sighed. “Alright Caboose, you know the rules: no tanks, robots, or anything else that can kill us.”

Caboose scoffed. “Stupid Tucker, of course not! I am not stupid like you.”

“Whatever you say man, whatever you say.”

Tucker began his cake by adding flour, wheat, and eggs to a pan. He had never used an oven in his life and decided that seven-hundred degrees for ten minutes would be enough.

“Tucker, where are the decorations?” Caboose said. “I mean, I know where they are, but I just want to make sure you do too.”

“We don't have any, dickmilk. Chorus has been at war for years, all they have left is shitty guns and even shittier food.”

“Oh okay. Just checking.”

Tucker rolled his eyes and checked his cake which, sadly, still wasn't finished. He turned up the heat to seven-hundred-fifty and hoped that would speed things up.

Five minutes felt longer than it was, and it didn't take him long to wish Caboose was back at his side, calling him an idiot. _Who does he think he is, calling me idiot? He's the one who can't tie his shoes on his own._ He thought. He could practically hear the reply: _“That is not my fault, I have brian damage!”_ He chuckled. _It's brain damage, dumbass._ He thought.

Soon after that Tucker stated to have a conversation with Caboose in his head, but that only made him as lonely as ever; he tried thinking of some good dick jokes to cheer himself up, only to remember his lacking sexual experience.

Those lies had always bothered him, deep down: he boasted about fake encounters with women only to feel better about the fact that he'd never came in something that wasn't his hand- before he'd met Church, at least.

When Tucker had kissed Church for the first time, they'd teased each other the entire time, but that was how they said _I love you._ Tucker had cherished those moments, stolen in secret and followed by a reassuring “No-homo.”

Then Tex had shown up, and everything changed- then Wash had shown up, and everything changed- and everything kept changing until Church's touch was long lost to Tucker's memory.

 _At least Caboose was still happy,_ Tucker thought, _he's kept a smile through the apocalypse and worse._ Tucker admired that, when he didn't envy it.

The cake finished with a cheery  _ding-_ if a pile of charred flour inside a tin could be called cake _._ However, Tucker's kitchen safety was still lacking, so he reached for his dish without hesitation and burned himself. He screamed, and Caboose rushed to his side. 

“I was painting the hallway when I heard a lady scream!” His teammate said, splattered in glitter glue from his 'decorating'. “Tucker, are you the screaming lady? Why are you crying?”

“Get out of the way, idiot, I need to wash my hands.” Tucker said. He ran his hands under cold water and hissed. It hurt like a motherfucker, and Tucker wished his dad had told him more about kitchen safety than he had about women.

“Stupid Tucker! Didn't your mom ever teach you how to bake?” Caboose said. He grabbed a dish towel and carefully wrapped it around his hand. “See? Now I will not get burned!” He said, before he rushed the cake pan to the sink, where it simmered under cold water. “I saved us, no need to thank me-” Caboose's sentence was cut off by the fire alarm.

Steam from the 'cake' had set it off, and Tucker groaned. “Look what you did!” He said. Sprinklers drenched them in water, and they dreaded the cleanup that would follow. “Everything's going to be wet now, idiot!” Tucker said.

“It's raining indoors! Save me Tucker!” Caboose screamed. He ran around in terror and his flailing sent objects flying: flour, eggs, glitter glue- _Jesus, where did he even get this stuff?_ Tucker thought, as he reached to turn off the fire alarm.

“Stop running around, you're ruining everything!” Tucker screamed back.

“Tucker? Why isn't it raining anymore- You broke it with your stupid!”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe you're stupid too.”

“Yeah? Well maybe I appreciate your friendship!” Caboose said, as if it were an insult, and Tucker reciprocated accordingly.

“Maybe I think I'm too hard on you sometimes!”

“Well what if I think you were a good leader, and our failures weren't your fault!”

“I find your stupidity and optimism endearing!”

“I'm glad you never left like Church did!”

“You look kinda hot when your shirt is wet!”

“You too!”

“Thank you!”

“Why is there a cucumber in your pants?!”

“Shut up Caboose!”

“Why are we yelling?!”

“It makes what we're about to do less gay!”

“Mouth-touching?”

“Bingo.”

Tucker had Caboose pinned against a wall seconds later. They didn't hesitate to wrap their arms around each other, or taste each other, or pull each other's hair. They rubbed paint and flour between their bodies, not to mention the  _cumcumber_ in a certain cyan soldier's pants. The exchange was pleasant for the both of them: Tucker was happy to touch someone other than himself, _,_ and Caboose was happy that Tucker was.

After a few minutes of kissing, Caboose stopped. “There is glitter on you.” He said.

“Yeah, there is- Where did you even find this stuff?” Tucker said, with a blush.

“I got it from Donut, for a  _special favor._ ”

“What did you- oh. Ew.”

“It was fun!”

“Nasty, dude.”

“What is?”

“Gay stuff, I guess. No homo.”

“Yeah, I am not an gay!”

Tucker heard footsteps approaching the blue base. “Fuck. Get up, or this'll look bad.” He said.

“It's alright Tucker, I know the drill- I'll just do the same thing I did with Church!”

“Wait, what-” Tucker heard the footsteps draw nearer, and corrected himself. “You know what, I don't want to know.” He said, moments before Epsilon returned.

The two  _completely hetrosexual_ soldiers would share more  _totally manly_ kissing sessions, stolen in secret and followed by a reassuring “No-Homo.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the 'special favor' caboose gave donut was actually a LOVELY picnic with LESS THAN 3 handjobs. no homo   
> (but seriously caboose is ace and i felt so guilty implying that he wasnt. forgive me jord)


End file.
